Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (15 page)

“This is crazy,” Ursie said.  “What if you smash a hole in the wall of the Skywalk?”

“Then we die,” Knile said.  “But we’re going to die anyway if we don’t get through.”  He waved at the two of them.  “Stand back.”

Ursie held up a hand to stall him.  “Wait a second–”

“Ursie, if you have a better plan, then go for it!  Otherwise, get the hell out of my way.”

Knile twisted the reversing handle, then began to pump the crank.  Ursie stepped out of the way, still staring at him hopelessly, and then they disappeared behind him.

How much run up do I need?
Knile thought. 
How hard do I need to hit the damn door?

The answer, he supposed, was
as hard as possible.

In the back of his mind, he knew this plan was doomed to fail.  The top speed of the handcar under the power of the crank wasn’t much more than a
fast run, and without cargo, it
s mass was relatively low.  Knile imagined that the maximum force with which he could hit the door would simply cause the handcar to derail.

Like throwing a paper plane at a brick wall.

There was another loud noise ahead, and Knile saw a flash of brightness.  A gust of wind hit him in the face, stronger than before, and with horror he realised that they’d run out of rope.  The Skywalk ended only a matter of one hundred metres or more away, where the last bulkhead had snapped shut.

The tunnel buckled and tipped, and Knile slammed the crank into the locked position.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He reversed the handle, turned back toward the way station.  Then he began cranking like a madman.

“Come on,” he muttered to himself as the handcar began to gain speed.  “Come on, baby.  A little faster.”

The floor gradually began to disappear beneath him at a faster and faster rate, and then he hit top speed.  His arm was losing strength again, felt almost numb, but he did not relent.

The way station door came into view, and then Knile saw something utterly incomprehensible.

Lazarus was awake.  He was on his feet, staggering across the floor.

Ursie was high on his back as if taking a piggyback ride.

What the fuck?

The two of them were in the way of the handcar.  They were standing right in its path.

“Lazarus!” Knile yelled.  “Get out the fucking way!”

Lazarus turned, and even from this distance, Knile could see there was something not right about him.  His eyes seemed distant, vacant, lacking their usual sharpness.  Ursie lay slumped over his shoulder with her hair hanging over her face, and now Knile could see her fingers had been spread across the Redman’s cheek.

Knile understood.

She’s doing something to him.  She’s in his head.

The two of them tottered over to the emergency door release, then Lazarus’ hands lifted and clamped over the handle.  The muscles in his massive arms bunched, and his whole body seemed to tense as he put everything he had into the effort.  However, like Knile before him, Lazarus made no impression on the handle.  It remained stubbornly in its place.

The handcar trundled onward and the door loomed close.  Impact was only moments away.  Although he doubted he’d built up enough momentum to penetrate the steel, there wasn’t much Knile could do about it now.  He’d given it all he had.

He prepared to leap aside.

Then, miraculously, Lazarus snapped the release downward, and the way station door suddenly sprang open.  Knile almost overbalanced, then fell back onto the flatbed, stupefied, and the handcar sailed harmlessly through the newly opened portal and into the darkness on the other side.

18

Bagley led them out the back and through a heavy steel door, then down a worn concrete stairwell into a deep underground workshop.  At the bottom he pulled a switch that ignited an array of yellow bulbs that hung from the roof, and the magnitude of his operation became obvious.

Bagley’s lair was huge.  Stretching out in all directions, the workshop housed all manner of tools and materials: lengths of fabric, disassembled engines, gas tanks, partial aluminium frameworks.  Hammers and saws and grinders.  Not far away sat the most striking feature of all – the bulbous shape of a dirigible, cloaked in shadows and festooned with mooring ropes and a series of pipes and hoses.

This was their ride.

Memories came flooding back to Talia.  Someone had told her that this had once been an underground car park that had come into Bagley’s possession after the fall of society, but Talia had trouble believing that there would be enough cars out there to fill up a space thi
s large, even in the old days.

She had been here many times in the past, when this had been a bustling and flourishing place of business, and she had become accustomed to seeing workers moving between the various bays energetically and with a purpose.  The place had been far more cluttered in those days, and it was not unusual to see five or even ten dirigibles in various stages of construction at any one time.

Now they had all cleared out, and this last machine sat waiting to be loosed upon the skies above.  Talia wondered why Bagley had even agreed to sell this last floater.  She had assumed that he would probably save it for himself and use it to escape the city, but it seemed that his only concern was accruing more creds, even to the bitter end.

“So, this is it,” Bagley said, pushing aside a sawhorse as he led the way across the scuffed concrete.  “Like I said, I’ve been trying to find the damn leak, but
haven’t had
much luck.  You’re just going to have to take her as she is.”

“What happens if this thing falls out of the sky and we crash?” Gernot said.

“Then you die,” Bagley said unsympathetically.  “That’s your problem, not mine.  I don’t make any guarantees about what happens after you slip the mooring ropes.”

He mounted a ladder and began to disengage the hoses that were connected to valves on the dirigible’s envelope, while Talia began to circle around the gondola, inspecting the rotating engines that were mounted on either side.  They were in pretty poor nick, she decided, probably salvaged from the wreckage of a downed ship, judging by the dents in the housing, but it was too late to ask for an upgrade.

Hooking her foot on the edge of the gondola, she pulled herself up and looked inside at the controls.  These, at least, seemed in reasonable condition.  There was some rust on the panel itself, but the levers seemed sound, the gauges readable, and that was an improvement over some of the floaters she’d piloted in the past.

“Talia?” someone said behind her.  She turned to see Yun standing there, looking up at her with a worried expression on his face.

“What’s up, Yun?”

He fidgeted nervously and glanced across at where the others were assisting Bagley with the hoses.

“I just wanted to say good luck.”

Talia frowned, perplexed, and dismounted from the gondola.  “What are you talking about, Yun?”

“I hope you make it to Sunspire.  You and the others.”

“You’re not coming.”  It was not a question.

“No, I’m not.”

She sighed.  “Look, Yun.  I know this thing looks like it won’t even get off the ground, but Bagley knows what he’s doing.  He’s been building these things for a long time, and–”

“It’s not just that,” Yun said quickly.  He gave a desperate little laugh.  “Granted, the thought of going up in that thing scares the shit out of me.  But I’d already decided I wasn’t coming before we left the Reach.”

“So, what is it?   What’s the matter?”

He made a pained expression and twisted the beads in his hands.  “This whole plan to escape Earth, it’s just… aren’t you tired of facing certain death at every turn?  Aren’t you tired of running?”

“I want a future, Yun.  I don’t want to suffocate down here when there’s a better life waiting somewhere else.  I thought that’s what you wanted too.  Isn’t that why you joined Skybreach?”

“Yeah, but that was before.  Now I realise the truth.”

She looked at him sceptically.  “What truth?”

“That we’re not meant to leave this place.  We’re meant to die here.”

She recoiled from him, disgusted.  “Don’t ever say that, Yun.  That’s bullshit.”

“Look around you!” he hissed, on the verge of hysteria.  “Look at what’s happening to this world.  This is
end times
.  This is our punishment.  Someone up there,” he said, pointing to the ceiling, “has been watching us, and they’re giving us what we deserve.  We should accept that and
come to peace with ourselves, because we’re never going escape the judgement of the gods.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” she said, propelling a hand into his chest.  “I mean it, Yun.  You can give up if you want, but not me.  Not ever.  Stop spreading that poison nonsense.
”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Silvestri said, interjecting himself between them.

“He’s giving up,” Talia said, disgusted.  “He thinks we deserve to die here.”

“That’s because we
do
,” Yun shouted.  He turned to the rest of them.  “Look into your hearts and you’ll see the truth.  We turned our back on the gods, and now they’ve unleashed their wrath!”

Silvestri stared at Yun, disbelieving.  “Yun, where is this coming from?  I don’t understand.  You’ve sacrificed so much for Skybreach, and now you’re just going to turn your back on it?”

“I’ve seen the truth!” Yun said, backing away.  He began moving toward the staircase.  “You will as well, in time.  Make peace with yourselves before it’s too late.  That’s the only way to greet the end.  W
ith a pure soul.”

Silvestri moved after him, but Yun turned and fled, stumbling up the staircase and out of sight.

“Anyone else going to chicken out?” Gernot said uncompassionately.

“I have to go after him,” Silvestri said to Talia.  “I owe him that.”

“No,” Bagley said, moving over to a switch on a pillar nearby.  “I want you assholes out of
my digs
.  No more screwing around.”

He pulled on the switch, and a pair of massive steel doors above cracked apart and began to slide away.  Murky sunlight came spilling in around them, and Talia could see the roiling clouds above.

“You go after him and we’ll leave without the lot of
you,” Gernot said, climbing aboard the gondola.  He gave a curt signal, and his two bodyguards joined him aboard the craft.

Silvestri moved over to Talia to confer with her quietly.

“What do I do?” he said.

She shook her head helplessly.  “I don’t think there’s anything you
can
do.  You can’t help Yun if he doesn’t want to help himself.  He’s made a decision about what he thinks is right.  We need to do the same.”

Silvestri stood and watched the staircase, as if torn between staying and going after Yun.

“A part of me isn’t surprised that this happened,” he said.  “He hasn’t been the same since we left the Wire.  I tried talking to him about it, but… he wouldn’t open up to me.”

“What’s happening?” Roman said as he reached them.  “Are we going after Yun?”

Silvestri looked back at Talia.  “No.  He’s made his choice.”

“Get aboard, Roman,” Talia said.  “We’ll be there in a second.”

“Hey, c’mon!” Gernot said from the edge of the gondola.  He clapped his hands together rapidly as if he were
calling his pet dog
.  “Time is money.  Let’s blow this place.”

“Keep your pants on, Gernot,” Talia snapped.  “We’ll be there in a minute.”  She turned back to Silvestri and lowered her voice.  “Listen, I have to ask you something, and I want your honest answer.”

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath.  “All my life I’ve lost people.  I lost Knile and Roman.  My friends in Link.  Now, when I just started to feel like I was getting them back again, they’re gone.  Knile is somewhere up there,” she said, waving at the sky.  “The others in Skybreach left, even Duran and Zoe.  Now Yun.  I feel like I’m heading back to square one, a place where there’s just me by myself, and I don’t know if I can survive that again.  Not after everything that’s happened.”  She gripped his arm.  “I need to know that you’re with me on this.  I need to know that you’re going to follow through to the end, no matter what happens.”

Silvestri’s eyes were steely as he gazed at her.  “I will.”

“Even when the odds turn against us?”

He clasped her by the shoulders and leaned in close.  “The night that I first met you at that tavern in Link, you asked for my help, and I turned you away.  I
screwed
up, okay?  I didn’t know you then.  Looking back, that turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  If I’d known you better, I’d have made a different choice.”  He straightened and examined his silver coin for a moment, then flicked it away.  It tinkled across the concrete and disappeared into the darkened depths of the workshop.  “I care for you, Talia.  And for Roman.  I won’t back out on you, whatever the odds.  You have my word on that.”  He seemed to think of something.  “In fact, fuck the odds.”